


Melodifestivalen Semi 3 - The Martin Rolinski Story

by SamoShampioni



Series: Björkman's Empire [8]
Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Melodifestivalen RPF
Genre: ESC, Eurovision, Eurovision 2013, Gen, Malmo 2013, Melodifestivalen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamoShampioni/pseuds/SamoShampioni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of the 2013 MF told from a different perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melodifestivalen Semi 3 - The Martin Rolinski Story

Björkman's Empire - Melodifestivalen Semi 3 / Final 2013 - The Martin Rolinski Story

It was the day of the third semi final of the Melodifestivalen contest. The semi finalists sat there in the green room, looking around the room. Swedish flags hung from the ceiling and covered the walls. State of Drama kept fiddling around with their instruments.  
"I'm sure all those instruments are tuned already," Caroline said, rolling her eyes, "You've been messing about with them for the best part of an hour already."  
But State of Drama ignored her.  
"It's a great turnout this year," Janet leaned back in her seat, "Y'know, get G:Son and Kempe to write a few songs and the singers come flooding in."  
"It's a great turnout because it's been forced," Robin said, "Did anyone really choose to participate in Melodifestivalen this year? Or, like me, did you get a knock on the door from one of Björkman's robots and get told that you are participating, whether you like it or not?"  
"Hey," Martin Rolinski said, shocked, "I got that too!"  
"Exactly," Robin said, "Not exactly voluntary then, is it?"  
"Well," Eddie said, "You guys know Björkman, he always gets his own way in the end."  
"Stop insulting the emperor," Claes from Ravaillacz whispered, "No really, stop."  
"Yeah well," Martin said, "If you'd have told me a year ago that today Christer Björkman would be in charge of the whole country, I'd have laughed at you. But look where we are today."  
"Yes," said Caroline coldly, "Look where we are today. A violent and brutal dictatorship."  
"Shush," said Tommy Körberg, "We can't talk bad about the emperor!"  
"Yeah be quiet guys," Mats said, "Don't insult Björkman."  
Ravaillacz had become well known in the contest for defending the emperor constantly. But even they didn't like him, not really. They just understood that to get by in Sweden these days you had to pay lip service to Sweden's new dictator. The Swedes had seen what had happened if you didn't. A few days ago, the whole of Sweden had watched in horror as Björkman put down a mass rally against his regime, by ordering his robots to fire into the crowd. It was then that the people realised that Sweden's dark days were far from over.  
"No," Elin said, "Tommy's probably right. We've all seen what downtalking the dictator gets you."  
"Yeah," Tommy said, "It gets you shot, that's what."  
"Well then, if it makes you feel better we won't mention Björkman again," Amanda smiled, "In fact, we won't even mention his name. He doesn't deserve the recognition from us."  
And so Björkman wasn't mentioned for the rest of the night. Danny and Gina, the presenters of the show, were very also careful not to mention or even think about the dictator. They knew what had happened to Sarah Dawn Finer when she had dared speak out about the emperor.  
The votes were counted and verified, and it was Ravaillacz and State of Drama who went through to the final, while Martin and Caroline went through to Andra Chansen, the Second Chance round. No one knew for certain whether these were the real results of the voting or whether Björkman had fixed the contest. Rumours abound through Sweden that Björkman was using his powerful role as leader to rig the national final, but no one dared speak out against him publicly. It was far too dangerous.  
\---  
It was the day of the final. The Andra Chansen round had put Anton and Robin through to the final. The semi- finalists were sitting in another green room to the finalists, wondering what on Earth they were doing there at all. Having been knocked out of the competiton, it was traditional for them to play no further role in Melodifestivalen, but Björkman had requested them to show up at the final. And you don't say no to Björkman. They sat there, wondering why they were even there at all. Martin suggested that there would be a reprise of all the songs that didn't quite make it, while Caroline suggested it was part of some evil scheme of Björkman's.  
By this point, the final was drawing to a close. The votes had just been counted, and Robin declared the winner. Martin didn't feel so bad about losing to him in the Andra Chansen now, at least he had lost to the champion.  
"Well, I gotta go to the bathroom," Martin announced to the other semi- finalists for no particular reason, and with that he left. It was only a few minutes later when he heard shouting coming from the stadium, and he was sure he could hear the audience shouting in the distance, "Get Björkman out! Get Björkman out!"  
"Finally," Martin thought, "Someone says what we're all thinking."  
Realising that Björkman, unstable as he was, would probably order some sort of attack on the audience, he stayed there in the bathroom, hoping no one would come looking for him. It was then that he heard robots buzzing, quietly at first, and then louder.  
"They must be in the green room!" he thought. About 20 minutes later, he heard the sound of the robots firing their weapons, and then all was silent. Martin stayed there for what seemed like hours afterwards, trying to keep as quiet as he could, cowering in the bathroom as he heard squeaking footsteps outside. And then, there was silence.  
It was midnight when Martin finally gathered the courage to open the door of the bathroom and wander outside. The green room was silent, but the light of the moon lit up the room enough for him to see a little bit. Björkman's robots had shot everyone. Standing there for a few moments in stunned silence, he looked around at the scene of the Melodifestivalen Massacre. Running out of the green room in horror, he then found himself standing alone on the dark stage. Moonlight shone through the windows and illuminated the scene with an eerie glow. He looked out and saw bodies in the crowd too, it became painfully clear that Björkman had ordered his robots to fire on the audience. The happiness of the contest had turned to horror so quickly, how could Björkman do this?  
Martin ran out of the stadium screaming, and found himself standing outside in the cold, alone. He walked over to the car park. Björkman's distinctive lorry was gone. In fact, all the cars had disappeared except for his. Björkman's robots had been coming and taking some of them away to be used for the robot army, but, luckily for him, Martin's car didn't meet Björkman's strict criteria. Martin ran over to his little blue car that sat there all alone in the car park, got inside and drove off. Where to? He didn't know. Somewhere, anywhere. He barely saw any other cars on his trip out of Stockholm. He decided to go to Norway, Norway had to be better, after all, nowhere could be worse than where he was right now.  
Eventually, he came across the Norwegian border, the 'Welcome to Norway' sign greeted him, but the roads were deserted. There must have been some reason that Björkman's robots weren't guarding the borders like they always were. Once in Norway, he drove past a smashed up black lorry. Björkman's lorry. He wondered what it was doing there but had too much on his mind to give it any more than a passing thought.  
\---  
He entered the building of the Norwegian foreign office, He didn't know why, it just seemed like the most appropriate building to enter to request asylum in Norway. There was a man sitting waiting at the desk. He looked up at Martin.  
"H-hello," Martin said, "I would like to request asylum, please?"  
"Ah yes, ok, show me your passport please."  
Realising that Sweden's dictatorship had severely damaged the world's opinion of Swedes, Martin produced his Polish passport instead of his Swedish one, holding it out to the man. Sitting there nonchalantly, leaning against a violin case, Martin felt like he recognised the man, but couldn't be sure.  
"What is this?" the man laughed, "Polish passport? You're Swedish, I can tell. Is this fake?"  
"No no," Martin said, "It's not fake. I'm part Polish. I'm sorry, here, here's my Swedish passport as well."  
Martin handed him his other passport.  
"Ah," the Norwegian smiled, "Just as I suspected. You're from the Melodifestivalen competition, are you not?"  
"Why yes," Martin replied, "I am."  
"Excellent! I can put you with all your little friends then! Better late than never, I'm sure the others from MF with appreciate it."  
"Others, made it?" Martin yelled, both shocked and relieved.  
"Yes," the man smiled, "And we're going to reunite you! Gosh, this is terribly exiting!"  
\---  
While taking in more Swedes was dangerous, the Norwegian government, still wanting to apologise for the angry mob that had attacked the MF finalists, sent Martin to the same hotel where the finalists had been placed. They were taking a risk, as the move could upset Björkman. However, Björkman couldn't care less about anyone who made it out and went over the border to Norway now that he had Robin and Loreen back. All Björkman cared about was that his rule was unthreatened. Martin walked into the room to find the other finalists, who immediately stopped talking and turned to look at the new arrival.  
"Martin?!" Tommy yelled, "Is it really you! Oh, thank goodness you made it!"  
"Y...yes," Martin smiled, "I'm ok."  
It was at that point that Yohio walked in from the kitchen, holding a pan.  
"Oh my god," Yohio said, nearly dropping the pan as he ran over to Martin, "Martin! You're alright!"  
"Yes, I... I," but then he broke down, "Oh god you guys, he shot everyone! He shot everyone!"  
"We know," Anton said sadly, "We know."  
"We will stop this," Louise said defiantly, "We're going to stop Björkman's dictatorship, don't you worry."  
\---  
Martin's story had confirmed everyone's worst fears; not only had Björkman fired on the semi-finalists, but the audience too. It was a sad day for Melodifestivalen, a contest that had started out in 1959 with so much hope and joy, only to end in 2013 with one of Björkman's biggest massacres. The Melodifestivalen Massacre went down in history, and the civilised world could do nothing but stand back and watch as Björkman terrorised his own citizens. But there was one thing Björkman hadn't counted on, and that was the spirit of a nation which could never be broken, which was determined to one day bring him and his dictatorship crashing down.  
The End.


End file.
